


Turn me to Mush

by CGotAnAccount



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Keithtober 2018, M/M, Pumpkin Picking, SHEITH - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 18:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: Shiro mutters from down below before clearing his throat, “Anyway, it doesn't matter, the real question is do you wanna go on an adventure with me?”Keith's interest is piqued. Adventure with Shiro is definitely on his list of things he'll put on pants for, or not put on pants for if that's what Shiro wants.Keithtober2018 prompt 27 Pumpkin Picking





	Turn me to Mush

Keith would rather be doing anything in the world other than this calculus homework. He's been putting it off for like three days, and he could realistically put it off for two more, but he knows Hunk will give him a disappointed hum the next time he sees him if he doesn't have it at least halfway done.

But he really doesn't want to do it. That should count for something in the rubric.

He's been sitting here with a cooling cup of coffee for at least twenty minutes already and has only managed to complete one question along with a doodle of a cat riding a lizard – a decent start as any.

But he really. Really. Doesn't want to do this.

He groans, tipping his chair back onto two legs and yanking the hood of his sweatshirt tightly over his face. When that doesn't make the homework disappear he does it again, but louder.

The dramatic groaning overbalances his chair for a heartbeat and he windmills frantically to drop the front two legs down, throwing himself off sideways onto the floor in the process. More groaning ensues.

This wouldn't be so bad if he had Hunk or Pidge to study with, but they're both at some robotics club tournament thing this weekend. Shiro would be a great study partner too, but Keith knows he would literally get nothing done except an awful lot of daydreaming.

Considering at the moment he's curled onto the floor petulantly, the daydreaming would probably be more productive. He might learn calc through sheer osmosis of being near Shiro's nerdy aura.

Despite being President of the campus chapter of Sigma Gamma Tau and a fixture of the gym five days a week, Shiro still manages to keep a near perfect 4.0 even with his grumbling about Professor Slav's murder courses. The man practically bleeds the easy intelligence that Keith is both envious of and a little in love with. Still, if he had to pick a permanent study buddy it'd be Shiro hands down, even if he failed every class in the meantime.

But for right now he's content to lay in his crumpled heap on the floor next to the overturned chair and wallow in self pity. He could be out doing something fun instead, it's a beautiful day outside if the breeze rustling the papers on his desk is any indication. He could be literally anywhere but this ball on the floor, but that would probably require pants and if there's one thing harder to do than calc homework it's putting on pants when you don't have a good reason to.

Sighing, Keith uncurls from his puddled form and pushes himself across the floor with his feet. His hoodie drags down his back a bit, choking him slightly, and his boxers tug across the linoleum making the thin sliver of skin between the garments stick and pinch as he goes. Once in the general vicinity of his bed he rolls onto his face and reaches out to tug his charging cable, hoping to get his phone within reach, but he tugs just too hard and it lands on his head with a dull thud.

Typical.

Rubbing the back of his head, Keith resigns himself to laying on the cold linoleum and scrolling through his usual web pages until he either dies or the homework finishes itself. Fortunately he doesn't have to wait long because his soul nearly leaves his body when he hears a sudden rapid fire slamming at his window. He jerks his head up, smacking it on the edge of the mattress, but there's nothing there.

Deciding death will get him out of the calc work, Keith creeps onto the bed to peer outside through the blinds when dozens of grey blobs come streaking at his face. He yelps and throws himself flat before remembering the screen is still in place. Angrily yanking on the drawstrings, he glares outside to see a smiling Shiro scooping up another handful of gravel in preparation for his next assault.

“What in the hell are you doing?” he calls down to him.

Shiro's head whips up to the window and his silly floof bobs through the front of his snapback with the motion.

“Keith!” He grins brightly up at the window, “Hi!”

Keith can't help but roll his eyes and smile down at Shiro as he opens the screen and leans out, forearms on the sill. “Hi, Shiro.” he says dryly, “Is there any particular reason you're whipping handfuls of gravel at my dorm?”

“Ah, that.” Shiro drops his current load and straightens up with a sheepish wave. “I was trying to get your attention.”

Keith arches his eyebrow. “I have a phone.”

Shiro scuffs the gravel a little, his cheeks tinging pink. “I saw it in a movie once and thought it looked cool?”

Snorting, Keith drops his chin on his hand and regards his friend. “And what movie was this? I feel like Star Wars doesn't have a scene with Luke chucking rocks at Han's window.”

“You'd be surprised...” Shiro mutters from down below before clearing his throat, “Anyway, it doesn't matter, the real question is do you wanna go on an adventure with me?”

Keith's interest is piqued. Adventure with Shiro is definitely on his list of things he'll put on pants for, or not put on pants for if that's what Shiro wants.

“Give me five minutes and I'll meet you down there.” He slams the window shut before scrabbling around for a pair of clean sweatpants, the first two pairs have him recoiling at the sniff test before he grabs an old pair that he's pretty sure are Shiro's anyway judging by the loose fit. He shrugs and knots the drawstring tighter before tugging his sleep-sweaty hoodie over his hair and grabbing the first passably clean t-shirt in the dorm. He decides the results are rumpled but acceptable, especially considering Shiro's ugly neon pink shirt and ratty grey sweatpants. It's not like they're going to the Ritz.

He snags his phone, keys, and wallet off the table before locking his door and taking the stairs down two at a time. Shiro is still practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when Keith finally bounds down the steps of the dorm building.

“That was fast.” He raises his eyebrows in Keith's direction.

Keith hums noncommittally, “Calc homework.”

“Aah.” Shiro nods sagely. “So what you're saying is I've saved you and you owe me?”  
“Sure,” Keith snorts, “I owe you. Now where are we going anyway?”

Shiro perks up and whips out his phone to pull up the directions as they amble down to the parking lot.

“There's a pumpkin patch that's only fifteen minutes away!” he crows, “We are going to go pumpkin picking!” Shiro's enthusiasm is contagious and Keith finds himself grinning as they cram into Shiro's old Civic and make their way to the farm.

 

It's pretty much just as Keith pictured from the storybooks, a quaint little barn with rows and rows of apple trees in the back acres and a neat little patch of pumpkins with their curly vines winding all over each other. The crisp smell of leaves competes with the mouthwatering scent of cider and donuts wafting over from little stand they have set up. He can feel his own silly smile bloom as he looks at a few packs of kids running around in a shorter corn maze next to the barn and the whole scene gives his heart a funny ache. It's perfect.

He turns to tell Shiro as much, but finds him already looking down with his own soft smile focused on Keith in wonderment. Flushing, he jostles Shiro with his elbow instead.

“This is pretty cool, Shiro,” he says in a teasing voice, “I'm not surprised an old timer like you would go for the throwback fun though.”

Shiro scoffs. “Pumpkin picking is timeless, you heathen.” Keith just rolls his eyes playfully in response and tugs him forward toward the patch.

He soon learns that pumpkin picking is actually a careful art form that involves knocking on each and every pumpkin in different points to test the hollow thunking sound. The same hollow thunking sound that every single pumpkin makes in exactly the same tone no matter where it was knocked, despite Shiro's claim that it took a masterfully trained ear to spot the difference. Keith quickly gives up on the thunking method and switches over to finding the one with the shallowest grooves for ease of carving.

He is gently running his thumbs over two different ones with a thoughtful look when Shiro comes up beside him holding either the thunkiest or least thunky pumpkin, he wasn't sure what the goal was.

“That's cheating you know.” He gives Keith a faux disappointed look.

Keith sticks his tongue out at him and continues his pumpkin stroking.

“It's not my fault you have sonar and I don't.” He grins, “Besides, if I'm going to be using my knife to carve it you wouldn't want the point to catch on a groove and slice me would you?” Shiro's flat look just screams 'really?' but he lets it go without comment.

“Let's grab some cider and donuts to take back.” Shiro suggests with his best winning smile, batting his eyelashes

“Shiro,” Keith sputters, turning red. “Stop, Jesus that's creepy. You don't have to convince me to get snacks.”

Whooping, Shiro snags Keith's pumpkin of choice and jogs over to the little stand before slapping them both on the counter and pointing at the food. He's got everything paid for and is boxing up the donuts before Keith can even squawk his protest.

“I can get mine!” He insists, trying to shove a few dollars at Shiro, but Shiro just waves him off.

“I promised you adventure!” he says, “This is stage one of adventure, so it's on me.”

Keith grumbles but shoves his wallet back in his sweatpants.

“Fine, but I'm helping you carry things.” he adds petulantly, scooping up the large paper cups of cider.

Shiro nods cordially at him. “Why, thank you.” Then, with as much of a flourish as someone can make with their arms full of pumpkins and donuts he adds, “To the carving!” and trots off.

“To the carving!” Keith echoes marching after him to the car where they shove their spoils inside and head back to campus.

 

They set up their implements of destruction on the table of Shiro's room since frat presidency afforded him slightly more space than Keith's cluttered dorm. Shiro has obviously had this planned from the beginning judging by the thin plastic sheet laid over the table and the package of tiny saws, scrapers, hole pokers, and general stabbers. Keith was content to stick with his knife, but he could appreciate the boyscout levels of preparation.

He's trying to decide what to carve before Shiro gives him a level stare across the little table.

“No peeking,” he says gravely.

“No peeking.” Keith agrees.

Shiro nods, satisfied, before picking up his poking tool and shouting, “Go!”

Keith fumbles with his knife for a moment, confused. “Go what?” Shiro ignores him in favor of concentrating on his art. “Shiro?” Keith tries again, “Is this a contest?”

Shiro's eyes flash up at him and the corner of his mouth quirks up, cocky.

“Not if you don't get carving.” He taunts Keith with a challenging eyebrow.

Ever rising to the bait, Keith growls and digs the tip of his knife in the top before scooping a hand inside and flinging the guts at Shiro. They smack him squarely in the floof and drip down his face in stringy globs.

Shiro goes deathly still as a gooey strand sticks to his cheekbone and Keith feels a thrill of terrified excitement. He's so, so dead.

Shiro's prosthetic punches into the top of his own pumpkin and he rips out a glob, whipping it back at Keith's face before he can so much as get a hand up to defend himself.

It only devolves from there; by the time they run out of ammunition from the insides of their pumpkins they were both covered head to toe in orange globs and Shiro's room was spattered in sticky guts. They crash together on the floor wheezing in laughter and smearing the last remains into each other's skin. At some point Keith had ripped Shiro's snapback off his head and ground a fist full of goo into his hair as retaliation for the clump that was somehow jammed into his own belly button.

“Well.” Shiro gasps, still giggling, “That's one way to clean out the insides.”

Keith snorts. “You're the one who called it a competition.”

Shiro beams at him, digging a pumpkin seed from his ear. “I suppose I should know by now that you always fight dirty.” He leans back against his splattered bed with a sigh before giving Keith a soft look. “Hey, you've got something right there,” he wipes a stray smear off Keith's cheekbone before flicking a quick look down to his lips, wondering if he'd taste like cider and donuts still.

Keith feels his cheeks go hot under those hands but he doesn't miss the dip of Shiro's eyes and his heart picks up a little. He darts his tongue out to wet his lips and watches Shiro's pupils dilate slightly, it's enough of a sign to make him nuzzle his face into Shiro's palm with a sigh and look up at him through his lashes.

Shiro's breath hitches and his fingers curl around Keith's jaw gently. Even covered in pumpkin detritus and powdered sugar Keith is still the most beautiful person Shiro's ever seen, and he's been looking and wanting for so long...

“Tell me if I'm reading this wrong.” He murmurs into the quiet, telegraphing his movements as he tips his face toward Keith's and leans down.

A smile curls at the corner of Keith's mouth as he grabs the back of Shiro's neck suddenly and pulls him down until Shiro can feel the smile against his own. The flash of heat between them is dizzying along with the roar in his ears as he finally has a taste of what he's wanted for so long. He gasps when Keith bites down on his bottom lip and tugs, and Keith quickly takes advantage of his parted lips to deepen the kiss.

Shiro is certain he's going to burn up on the spot if he doesn't suffocate first, but Keith takes care of the problem as he parts for air, panting into the space between them.

“You're not reading it wrong,” he mouths against Shiro's lips before pressing their foreheads together.

“Oh,” Shiro says faintly, “That's good.”

He feels Keith's smirk more than he sees it and they crush together again, slowly this time. Shiro wants to take his time and explore every inch of Keith. He slides his hands up the back of his neck and into his hair... and comes back with a handful of goo.

He pulls away sputtering with laughter, “Oh my god, we're disgusting,” He flails the hand, spattering it against the floor instead. Keith looks at him with a pout.

“Well we're already dirty.” He gestures between them with a gleam in his eye, “And the bed is already dirty...”

Shiro just throws his head back cackling.

“Keith. If I'm going to get in your pants it's not going to be when we'll have to pull pumpkin strings out of our asses for a week from it.”

Keith pouts and shoves him lightly.

“Fine.” He sniffs, before cracking a playful eye open, “But you owe me one fondling any time I want.”

“I thought you owed me one, but I think I can live with that,” Shiro smirks playfully, “Besides, I did get your pumpkin and food, so that makes this our first date.” Keith rolls his eyes with a smile as Shiro continues, “And you know that as resident Golden Boy, I don't put out on the first date. You'll have to woo me.”

“Wooing, noted,” Keith says dryly, hauling himself off the floor, “Alright Golden Boy, let's clean up and go get food so I can defile you properly on our second dinner date.”

Shiro scrambles to his feet and follows him to the bathroom.

“I'm pretty sure I have some candy in here, then you can defile me on our second shower date!”

 

Twenty minutes later Matt walks in the room to a pile of candy wrappers and their shared laughter echoing off the tile.

 

 


End file.
